Part 9 (1/2)

In suppressed excitement he asked, ”When was Smith here, Mr. Black? What time?”

The manager smiled sardonically, and turned back to his work. ”No; you can't fasten it on Smith,” he said shortly. ”It was after he went out that I returned the box to the safe. But, if it's any good to you--he was in here from about five-thirty to ten minutes to six, and was talking with one of the boys in the outer office when I left.”

”And Mr. Black, were you outside during the time Smith was in here?”

”No, I--Yes, I was, too. About a quarter to six I was over at the speaking-tube for a minute.

”But enough of this nonsense,” the manager added sharply. ”The box was in the safe when I closed it. Don't bother me any further with your pretense of investigating. I don't believe it is sincere.”

Despite this cutting declaration Jack turned away with secret satisfaction.

Just outside the office door he made a second discovery--a small one, but one which further strengthened the theory he had formed.

It was a small coal cinder and an ash stain in the shape of a heel, apparently overlooked by a careless sweeper.

They could only have been left by a foot which came from the cellar!

Promptly Jack turned toward the cellar door, and made his way down into the big bas.e.m.e.nt.

Going directly to one of the rear windows, he carefully examined it. The cobwebs and the dust on the sill had not been disturbed for months.

He turned to the second, and instantly emitted a shrill whistle of delight. Its cobwebs had been torn and swept aside, and the ledge brushed almost clean. And evidently but a short time before, for the cleared s.p.a.ce showed little of the dust which constantly filtered through the floor above.

”Fine!” exclaimed Jack. ”Now I--” He paused. The window was securely latched on the inside!

For several minutes Jack stood, disappointed and mystified. Then, examining the latch closely, he laughed, and grasping it with his fingers, easily pulled it out. It had been forced from the outside, and merely pressed back into the hole.

But its being replaced showed that the intruder had not made his escape that way.

Jack began an examination of the end of the cellar under the express office. And the exit was soon disclosed.

The dividing wall was of boarding, and at the outer end, to facilitate the examination of the gas metres of the two companies, was a narrow door. Ordinarily this door was secured on the telegraph company's side by a strong bolt.

The bolt was drawn, and the door swung easily to Jack's touch!

On the farther side all was darkness, however, and Jack returned to the window. As he approached it something on the floor beneath caught his eye. It was a lead-pencil. He picked it up, and with a cry of triumph discovered stamped upon it the initials and miniature crest of the express company. And, more, a peculiar long-pointed sharpening promised the possibility of fixing its actual owner.

Filled with elation, and confident that it was now only a matter of time when he should clear himself, Jack hastened up-stairs, determined to pursue his investigation next door, where he knew several of the younger clerks.

”h.e.l.lo, Danny,” he said, entering the express office, and addressing a sandy-haired boy of his own age. ”Say, who in here sharpens pencils like this?”

”h.e.l.lo! That? Oh, I'd know that whittle a mile off. We call 'em daggers--Smith's daggers. Where did you get it?”

”Smith! Who wants Smith?”

Jack turned with a start. It was the clerk himself.

Instantly Jack extended the pencil. ”Is this yours, Mr. Smith?” he asked, and held his breath.

”Yes, it is. Where did you find--” Suddenly the clerk turned upon Jack with a look of terror in his face. But in a moment he had recovered himself, and abruptly s.n.a.t.c.hing the pencil from Jack's hand, proceeded to his desk.